The Mammoth Book of Regency Romance

Her Gentleman Thief Robyn DeHart

Annalise Petty sat primly on the carriage seat, hands folded neatly in her lap. Outwardly, she probably appeared to be the perfect genteel lady, full of grace and peace. But inside, a battle raged. Her heart beat wildly and her stomach felt like a gnarled mess of knots. In two days she would become wife to the most boring, proper man in all of London. A man she had foolishly fancied herself in love with when he’d first begun to court her. Then he’d revealed his true self. Now she knew he was rather indifferent to her and only interested in the business deal the union brokered.

She chewed at her bottom lip. The carriage rumbled along through the dark night. Her parents had already made the journey to Kent, but Annalise and her younger sister, Penny, had stayed behind for one last fitting of the wedding gown. The dress, in layers of cream-coloured gossamer silk, was the finest garment Annalise had ever owned. Her betrothed had purchased her an entire wardrobe of appropriate clothing, which would be delivered to his estate sometime next week. The wedding gown, though, sat neatly in a trunk on the back of the rig.

Hildy, their maid, rested quietly across from them, pretending not to nap, though her level breathing and spontaneous snores betrayed her. Penny sat quietly, her expression blank. Sweet and beautiful Penny. Annalise sighed. This should have been her trip, her wedding gown in the back.

As if her sister had read her mind, Penny placed a gloved hand over Annalise’s. “You should be excited,” Penny said. “Your grin belies your worry.” She smiled warmly. “Relax.”

Annalise thought to argue, then nodded. “You know me far too well, sister. I cannot help but think that all of this should be for you. This is your season, your introduction to society.”

“And you never had either.” She put a hand against her chest. “I am so very happy for you. Your union with Lord Benning has no bearing on my finding a good match. Besides, you are older, you should marry first.”

Yes, but Cousin Millicent hadn’t offered to sponsor a season for Annalise, and, though her father was an earl, they had no money to provide either a dowry or a proper coming-out. So Annalise had neither, which was fine with her. She had resigned herself to never marrying. But when the opportunity had come along for Penny, well, the entire family had moved in with their distant cousin in the hope of a quick marriage. This had not been what any of them had planned.

At three and twenty, Annalise knew she should consider herself lucky to have found a man willing to marry her. She certainly wasn’t unattractive, but she was fleshier than most society beauties. Still, she hadn’t been properly introduced at Almack’s. She’d only gone to London at Penny’s request to act as a chaperone of sorts. And as she’d sat in the corner at that first ball, she’d seen the tall, handsome Griffin Hartwell, Viscount Benning moving in their direction. She’d even reached over and squeezed Penny’s hand in excitement for her younger sister. Then when the rich baritone voice had asked her to dance and the masculine hand had extended not to Penny, but instead to Annalise, it had been scandalous. She’d wanted to decline, had known it would have been the more appropriate thing to do, but as she’d looked up into his handsome face, all her girlish fantasies had come to life and she’d found herself nodding and extending her own hand.

That one dance had led to three more that evening and had tongues wagging all over London. He’d played proper court to her after that scandalous evening, never once seeking time alone with her and only speaking about her, rarely to her. Her parents had eagerly accepted his offer of marriage and in one afternoon Annalise had gone from the unassuming sister to betrothed to a viscount. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to marry — she did — but she was foolish enough to long for a marriage with love and warmth. All her life she’d been dutiful and obedient, but her parents had not once asked her how she felt about this union. Nor had Griffin, beyond the polite proposal staged perfectly in front of her entire family. An impossible situation for her to say, “No thank you.”

She supposed matters could be worse. Griffin could be old or cruel, and he was neither. Instead he was only a few years her senior and polite and so dashing she had nearly choked on her lemonade the first time he asked her to dance. Then had come the proposal and she’d wondered at her great fortune. It hadn’t taken long for her to see the truth. A man so handsome and dashing — a man so rich — he couldn’t possibly want her. He’d only asked for her hand because he wanted some property her father owned. Her lack of dowry hadn’t been an issue, so they’d brokered a deal and she was the price. She exhaled loudly, but thankfully did not disturb Hildy.

Suddenly the carriage jerked to a stop. Outside she heard muttering, men’s voices. Perhaps they’d lost a wheel or taken a wrong turn. She peeled the curtain away from the window, but in the dark of the night, she could see nothing but outlines of the trees lining the road.

Hildy stirred. “Why are we not moving? Have we arrived?”

“I don’t believe so,” Annalise said, still trying to make something out of the dark shadows. She placed a hand on Penny’s knee to offer comfort.

Then the door flew open. “Out, ladies,” a male voice said curtly.

“Out?” Hildy said, clearly outraged. “It’s dark. If there is a problem with the carriage, we shall sit here until you fix it.”

A masked man stepped in front of the opened carriage door. Annalise noted that most of Penny’s form remained hidden in the shadows, so she sat forwards, trying to hide Penny. Her heart slammed against her ribcage.

Good heavens, they were being robbed!

Without thought, Annalise tossed her cloak over her sister. “Stay still,” she whispered.

He showed them a small pistol. “I said out.”

“Do not leave this carriage,” she warned her sister in a whisper. Annalise made haste to climb down the carriage steps. Hildy promptly fainted at the sight of the gun. An excellent chaperone, that one. The lanterns hanging off the carriage afforded her enough light to take in her surroundings. Annalise noted their driver and footman were both blindfolded and tied to a tree.

“Sir, we don’t have many valuables with us, but what we do have is yours,” Annalise said. “If you would simply let us be on our way.” She fought the urge to glance behind her to the carriage. She knew Penny would obey Annalise’s instructions and stay hidden.

“Indeed.” The masked man came to stand in front of her. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have sworn recognition flickered in his eyes. The carriage door remained open and Annalise knew the robber could see Hildy’s large body slumped over inside. Eventually the woman would awaken, but for now her silence kept Penny safe and unseen. “You ladies are out quite late this evening.”

Annalise bravely looked up to meet the highwayman’s gaze and found herself arrested by the most stunningly beautiful green eyes. And were it not for the black silk domino mask obscuring part of his face, she might have forgotten who he was and what was happening. The lantern light flickered off his features and she could clearly see a strong jaw, sculpted lips, a hint of a day’s growth of whiskers. It was quite evident that he was devilishly handsome.

The highwayman leaned against the carriage, crossing his feet at the ankles. The pistol dangled from his hand, almost as if he held nothing more than a handkerchief. There was a casual air about him, as if this situation were a perfectly normal occurrence for a Monday evening.

His sensual lips curved into a smile. “And where are you going at this hour?”

“My wedding,” she said.

But as the words left her mouth a realization surged through her. After this incident, there would be no wedding. No one here could attest to the fact that this man, this thief, had not ravished her. Hildy had not roused and the other two servants were blindfolded and tied up. There was no one save Penny to vouch for her and, if she were to speak up, she too would be ruined. Simply being stopped by this highwayman was enough to sully her reputation and her virtue. And who was to say he wouldn’t ravish her still? But Penny could be saved. She needed only to get Penny to safety.

Before she could further think on the matter, she reached out and placed a hand on the highwayman’s chest. “Take me with you,” she said.

If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he looked affronted. “I beg your pardon,” he said.

“Please, I won’t be a burden, you can simply take me and drop me off in London,” Annalise said. Her heart pounded so rapidly, so loudly, her very ears seemed to vibrate.

One eyebrow rose above his mask. “What of your wedding?”

What to say? There was no reason to tell this man that her fiancé was no more interested in her than he was her meagre collection of coloured ribbons. He might even know Griffin — though that seemed unlikely considering this man’s profession. She did not believe Griffin consorted with such fellows. Though if she didn’t know better she would have sworn this man was a gentleman too. The way he spoke, the way he moved — there was something utterly genteel about him. But that was foolish. Gentlemen were not thieves. She shook her head. “My parents arranged the marriage. To a dreadful man, boring, priggish and only interested in the land my father offered him.”

The highwayman’s lips tilted in a slight smile. His head quirked. “So not a love match, then?”

“No, most certainly not,” she said. Though she had once thought — hoped — it might be. She’d been a fool. A mistake she would not make again.

“And you want me to help you run away?” he asked.

She heard stirring in the carriage behind her. She stepped forwards, closer to the highwayman, and nodded. “Yes, please. Help me run away.”

He stepped closer, so that he stood but a breath away from her. His gloved fingers ran down her cheek. “Are you not afraid of me?”

She steeled herself, straightened her shoulders to stand taller. This was precisely why she’d had to hide Penny — to protect her sister’s reputation, but more so to protect her actual virtue. Penny was not a woman most men could resist, with her lithe figure and pale blonde hair. She was a classic beauty, unlike Annalise who was rather easy to ignore. It seemed unlikely Annalise would get ravished. “No.” She reached into her reticule and pulled out the jewellery she had been given to wear on her wedding day: a lovely pearl and diamond set necklace with matching drop earrings. “I’ll pay you.” She cupped the jewellery in her hand and held it out to him.

“I am a highwayman in case that has escaped your attention. I would take that regardless,” he said with a grin as he pocketed the jewels. He didn’t wait for her to answer, instead he leaned over, picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder as if she weighed no more than a child. “You will regret this.”

She thought he was probably right, but for some reason she felt no fear, only excitement and expectation. Penny would be safe. Eventually Hildy would awaken and she’d untie their driver and ensure Annalise’s sister got home safely. She’d always wanted an adventure. Well, now she’d all but stumbled head first into one. Perhaps her wedding day would not be so dull after all.

Griffin Hartwell breathed in the heady lemony scent of his bride’s hair as she sat nestled against him on his mount. The mask he wore itched and pricked at his skin, but he didn’t dare remove it. Not now. Instead he was forced to ponder his situation in physical discomfort. He’d lost a damned wager and because of that he’d ended up out here on this road playing the thief. He was only meant to steal a single piece of jewellery, a piece that would have been mailed back to the rightful owner as soon as he’d returned to London. But as his rotten luck would have it, he’d stopped the carriage carrying his own betrothed and she’d begged him — no, not him, the highwayman he was pretending to be — to save her from a marriage to a bore. That was what she’d called him. Perhaps it hadn’t been poor luck at all, but a boon considering she would have made the same request of an actual thief. No, he could at least ensure she remained safe.

The irony was not lost on Griffin, but he was too addled to enjoy it at the moment. He shouldn’t have complied with her wish to take her along, but as he saw it, he didn’t have much choice. Her reputation would have already been in shambles simply by being alone in the woods with a highwayman, and since her silly maid had succumbed to a fit of the vapours, and he’d conveniently tied up the driver and footman, they’d been hopelessly alone. He and his betrothed.

He’d ruined his own would-be bride. He nearly chuckled.

Of course he’d still marry her, convince her parents that he believed her tale of not being ravished. That would work only, though, if she fought for herself. And evidently she had no real desire to marry him. She found him to be a bore. And priggish. And that was an irony even more profound than the first. He’d only pretended to be righteous and proper to prevent further scandal. When he’d first asked her to dance he’d not known she hadn’t been properly introduced to society and was only acting as a chaperone to her younger sister. But shock waves had rocked through the ton as they’d danced not once, but four times that night.

She’d been utterly enchanting: charming and witty and easy to converse with. Her laughter had come easily and had been authentic. She’d been sincere, not at all like the pretty, but empty shell that was most marriageable women he’d encountered. Annalise had been different and he’d been intoxicated by her.

It would seem he’d done such a convincing job that he was at the very height of propriety. Annalise was not interested in him in the least. Though he would have sworn that hadn’t always been the case.

Her full bottom pressed against his inner thigh stirring his desire. It would have been impossible for her to ride side-saddle, as was customary for ladies, so he’d snuggled her against him, her position mirroring his own. Annalise Petty was a desirable woman. It was why he’d sought her out at the Draper Ball. Why he’d first noticed her in that shop on Bond Street the day before when she’d turned her righteous anger on Lady Henwick and given the matron more than one afternoon’s worth of gossip. The woman had had it coming. She’d been ruthless towards Annalise’s younger sister. Still Annalise’s behaviour was shocking. She’d intrigued him, so different when compared to all the rest of London’s marriageable misses. So when he’d seen her the following evening at the ball, he’d been unable to resist crossing the ballroom to ask her to dance. Because of the ensuing scandal, he’d pursued her and had eventually asked her parents for her hand, but that initial attraction had not yet faded for him.

She was lovely, with her large brown eyes and wide mouth, her honey-coloured locks and rounded figure. Griffin loved her fuller curves. Though her modest dresses didn’t give too much away, he knew she had lush hips and shapely legs to match her bountiful breasts. Where some girls had to dampen their petticoats to pronounce their assets, Annalise’s figure demanded attention. And he’d imagined every inch of her, and precisely what he would do to her on their wedding night. She would be worth the wait, worth the sacrifice he’d made in not enjoying her company these past few weeks.

If Annalise didn’t marry him, his mother would select a bride for him. She’d given him a deadline and he knew, as wonderful as his mother could be, a bride of her choice would not match his own desires. She’d select someone pretty and sweet and demure, and he’d be in for a lifetime of boredom. Much the same as what Annalise clearly expected from him.

Clearly he had only one option. The highwayman who had just abducted Annalise would have to convince her to marry her bore of a fiancé. He wouldn’t take her to London at all. In fact their current location was rather perfect. There was a small cottage on the edge of his property that would give them safe shelter for the night. The cottage was empty this time of year, generally used as a hunting cottage in pheasant season. It was the perfect place for them to hide and rest until morning light when he could send her on her way to Kent. On her way to their wedding.

He had to convince her she was making a mistake running away. And he’d have to do all of that while keeping his identity hidden.

Half an hour later they pulled up to the cottage. It was dark, though Griffin knew it would be well stocked with candles and blankets.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Looks to be an abandoned cottage,” he said. He jumped down from the horse, then helped her to the ground. “We ’ll stay here for the night. It’s far too late to ride all the way back to London.”

“Is this your hiding place? Where you keep all your stolen goods?” she asked, her voice an odd mixture of intrigue and horror.

He led her to the front door, then made a show of breaking the lock to make it appear as if he didn’t already know there was a key concealed within the hanging fern. “I have no such hiding place,” he murmured.

“Well, I would think as a thief you would need some place such as that,” she said. “Unless you are not successful in your wicked endeavours.”

He quickly found two candles and lit them. A soft glow permeated the darkness and illuminated the lovely Annalise. He met her gaze. “I can assure you that when given the opportunity I can be appropriately wicked.” He’d imagined this very scenario, only on their wedding night, with her wearing a filmy robe, her golden hair cascading down her back, her feet bare.

Now though she stood before him fully clothed. Her travel gown was basic and brown, with matching boots. While her dress remained intact, her hair was windblown from the ride, the remaining pins still holding her curls but several tresses had escaped and now framed her face. He noted that she wore no cloak or outer garment. “You do not wear a cloak in this chill weather?”

She chewed at her lip and shrugged. “I must have left it in the carriage.”

He eyed her. He knew Annalise to be fiery and bold, but never impractical.

“Are you going to take that mask off?” she asked.

His heart thundered. Had she recognized him? He didn’t think so, but it was a possibility. The sound of his voice or perhaps his eyes? Any of that could clue her into his true identity. They hadn’t spent much time together, but she had certainly seen him, stood close to him, had heard him speak. He eyed her, searching her face for signs of recognition, but her blank expression gave him nothing.

“Unless you tell me your name, it is not as if I can lead authorities to you,” she reasoned.

So no, she did not recognize him. “No, I’m perfectly comfortable just as I am.”

She shrugged. “Very well.” She turned around slowly, surveying the cottage. They stood in the seating room, which consisted of three wooden chairs and a worn sofa. She rubbed her arms, obviously chilled.

He made quick work of getting a fire going in the hearth. The flames crackled to life and warmth began to spread through the small cottage.

She swallowed visibly. “And we are to sleep here? Together?”

Her eyes widened as she lowered herself to the worn green and brown sofa, as if the weight of the situation had just crashed down upon her. To her mind, she was alone in an abandoned cottage with a dangerous highwayman. Highwaymen had dreadful reputations as thieves who preyed upon carriages of the wealthy, stealing jewels and money and virtues as they prowled the countryside. Yet she hadn’t seemed afraid of the situation as she’d climbed down from the carriage, nor when she’d asked him to take her with him. And even now, although she seemed hesitant, perhaps cautious, he saw no actual fear lining her lovely face. Perhaps she feigned bravery.

But she should be afraid.

She was to be his wife. He certainly couldn’t allow her to ride through the countryside befriending miscreants and thieves. What if he hadn’t been the one to pull over her carriage? What if a true blackguard had taken her with him? Perhaps she needed to see the full weight of the situation, feel the repercussions of her reckless behaviour.

He took a step towards her. One finger at a time, he pulled his gloves off. “Yes, this is where we will sleep for the night.” He trailed a hand down her cheek. “I suspect we’ll find an appropriate bed in one of the rooms down that hall.”

Her eyes followed his nod to the darkened hallway.

“Rethinking your request to come along with me?” he asked.

She inhaled sharply and took a steadying breath. “I am merely coming to terms with my reputation.”

“You weren’t too worried about your reputation back on the road when you begged me to rescue you.”

Defiantly she crossed her arms over her chest. It did little to hide the curves of her breasts, but instead drew closer attention to their fullness. “Perhaps I was a measure too hasty in my request. But it is far too late now. My reputation is already in tatters.” She pushed out her chin. “I assume you intend to ravish me, then?”

He felt his lips twitch with humour. He turned away from her to hide his expression. He should be angry with her — hell, he was angry — but she made it damned difficult to stay that way. “I would not have to ravish you,” he said. “If I want you, I will have you.” He turned back to face her and met her gaze. Momentarily, it felt as if he was looking at her, Annalise, his fiancée and she was looking at him in return, seeing Griffin beneath the mask.

The masked man sat in a wooden chair and stretched out his long legs in front of him. His tan breeches moulded against his well-formed legs, his Hessian boots shone in the candlelight. He certainly did not dress like a highwayman.

She crossed her feet at the ankles and folded her hands in her lap. Her mama had always told her she was impetuous and headstrong, but she’d never done anything this foolhardy. But here she was, holed up in an abandoned cottage with a masked thief. Her family would wonder what Griffin would say when he discovered his would-be wife had been abducted. Hopefully Penny and Hildy had made it safely to Kent.

If I want you, I will have you. His words rang in her head. If. Leave it to her to be so uninspiring to the opposite sex that even a ruthless highwayman could resist her charms. The fact that a thief didn’t want to ravish her should make her feel better about her current situation, instead she felt defeated. No wonder Griffin was indifferent to her.

“Tell me about this fiancé of yours,” he said.

“He’s a gentleman,” she began, not quite certain what else to add. She’d spoken so poorly of him earlier in the evening. But there was part of her, the part that was uneasy with her current situation, who wished he were here now. Not that he’d ever been particularly protective, in fact he’d mostly ignored her. But that first evening when they’d met, when he’d not been able to keep his eyes off her, when they’d danced again and again, he’d seemed, perhaps not protective, but most definitely interested. And she supposed he was an athletic sort and he might be able to fight this highwayman for her honour.

“A gentleman,” he repeated, clearly amused. A smile played at the corners of his mouth, which drew her eye to his lips. They were perfectly crafted, she couldn’t help but notice, sensual, almost pretty. The kinds of lips she’d heard other ladies talk about, the sort that would know how to kiss a woman to make her insides quiver.

She didn’t remember ever noticing Griffin’s mouth. Of course he didn’t speak to her very often. And, of course, he’d never so much as kissed her cheek. Annalise refolded her hands in her lap. “He’s kind and gentle.”

An eyebrow quirked over the domino mask. “You said he was boorish,” he reminded her.

She had said that. And she’d meant it. There was nothing romantic or exciting about her betrothed. He was a typical English gentleman, more interested in land and politics and drink than his intended. Being in the same room with Griffin was a constant reminder of how forgettable she was as a woman.

So much like the family she’d grown up in. Her father was always far more concerned with their coffers, and what the neighbours were doing. Her mother spent every last minute doting on Penny, the prettier daughter. Annalise had been ignored. Which had suited her perfectly since it allowed her plenty of uninterrupted reading time.

That was until Griffin had started to pay attention to her, then it was as if her parents had noticed her for the first time. He’d been the only man to show an interest in her and, initially, when they’d danced at the ball, she’d thought he wanted her — Annalise, the woman. But as time progressed and he more or less simply courted her parents, she’d realized he’d been attracted to nothing more than the land she provided.

“I did say that,” she said. Truth was, she didn’t have much to say about her future husband. She didn’t know him. She knew his name and she knew what his hand felt like in hers, the other resting on her lower back. She knew how she’d felt that first moment in his arms, the furious agitation in her stomach and the hope that had bloomed in her heart. And she knew the resulting disappointment when he’d come to call and spent the time discussing horses with her father.

“And you meant it,” he said.

“I did.” She crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. What did it matter what she said here tonight? She did not know this man; he did not know her. And tomorrow everything in her life would be different. “He is awfully boring and polite. And terribly respectable.”

He feigned shock, his mouth fell open. “However do you bear it? Respectability is indeed a terrible thing.”

“I am quite serious,” she said, feeling the frown crease her brows.

“Of that, I have no doubt.” He sat quietly for several moments before he folded his hands across his abdomen. “So what shall you do now that you’ve left this dreadful man at the altar?”

Annalise allowed his words to sink in. No, it would never appear that way to Griffin, nor her family. They would see her as tarnished goods because of her fate at the hands of this highwayman. But she knew the truth. As did this man. She had walked away from Griffin. Jilted him. Indifference or not, he hadn’t deserved that, but what of Penny’s reputation? Annalise couldn’t have allowed her sister to be ruined alongside her.

“I never said he was dreadful,” Annalise said quietly.

“But a respectable boor,” he corrected.

She sighed. “I shouldn’t have said those things.”

He was quiet for several moments before he said anything else. “So tell me, is leaving this fiancé of yours the only way in which you can acquire excitement? That is what you’re after, is it not? Some manner of adventure?”

She hadn’t left with this man to seek adventure, she’d done so to protect her sister. But she couldn’t tell him that, so she played along. “I am most disappointed as to how my life is turning out. It seems the only way,” she said. And it wasn’t as if any of that was a lie. She was disappointed.

“What of marrying this boring bloke, as planned, then finding your adventure elsewhere?” His head tilted as if he were truly curious about the matter. Or had that been an invitation … to dally with him? Certainly not. He’d said himself, if he wanted her, she would be his. Evidently he did not want her. And she was grateful for that. No woman wished to be ravished, regardless of how dashing the highwayman might be.

“It is practised quite heavily in society, as you must know. Perhaps a virtuous woman such as yourself has not heard of such a thing. But I can assure you it is most common.” Was that resentment she heard lining his voice?

“I would never do such a thing,” she said. “Infidelity is unthinkable. I do realize men find it palatable, but I could never participate.” She sat straighter. “And, of course, I have heard of liaisons outside of the marriage bed. Griffin might be boring, but he is a kind man and I would never be so disrespectful of him.”

He was quiet for a moment as if he were trying to make something of her admission.

Her eyes travelled the length of his legs and again she was struck by the shine of his Hessians. Simple thieves did not dress in such a refined manner. “It doesn’t appear as though infidelity is the only way to seek out adventure.” She inclined her head in his direction.

“To what are you referring, madam?” he asked.

“This.” She motioned her hand in his direction. “Your mask, your thievery. Kidnapping an innocent lady.”

He held up a finger. “At her request,” he added. “I did not don the mask for adventure.”

“Perhaps not, but you are no ordinary highwayman, are you?” she asked.

“I suppose you’ve met other thieves then, to compare me to? And I am somehow lacking in an area?” he asked.

She smiled in spite of herself. “No, I have met no others. But you are well born, I can see that much. In the way you handled the ride. The manner in which you speak, sit, hold yourself, your fine clothes.” She paused, then met his eyes. “The fact that you have not handled me inappropriately. You are a gentleman.”

A slow smile slid into place and he was so utterly handsome, so devastatingly dashing, she sucked in her breath. She would have sworn her heart paused for an entire minute before it beat again. As if the blood pumping through her veins stilled as she inhaled, stopped simply for his smile. “A well-born man,” she continued in an attempt to hide her reaction to him, “who becomes bored with society can traipse about the countryside playing at thievery. A wellborn lady has only gossip and shopping to entertain her.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. But looks can certainly be deceiving.”

“Indeed. Regardless of who you are, you must acknowledge that women do not have the same opportunities men do when it comes to life choices, especially well-bred ladies. I may marry a man of my family’s choosing or I am doomed to spinsterhood, relying on the generosity of my family members.”

“Forgive me if I offer you no sympathy.” He leaned forwards, bracing his elbows on his knees. He shoved his shirtsleeves up, revealing well-muscled forearms. “Men do not always have choice in their marriage partners either.”

“More often than women do,” she argued, knowing it was childish to do so.

“Marriage to the right person could be an adventure. Have you considered that?” he asked.

“Of course.” And initially she had thought Griffin to be that very person. He’d been so charming, so funny, and then turned so cold. “Marriage for love,” she said quietly.

“So you do not love him?” he said. His words came out slowly.

“He does not love me,” she said vehemently, perhaps revealing too much of her disappointment. She paused before adding, “It was not a love match, but rather a business transaction between him and my father.”

“He has told you he does not love you?”

She frowned. “No, of course not. He would not be that cruel.”

“Then how do you know?” he asked.

“Because a woman can tell these things. In the way that he looks at me.” Or rather the way he never looked at her. “And the way that he speaks to me.” She didn’t owe this highwayman an explanation. “A woman knows when a man loves her.” She had thought she’d felt it with Griffin, felt the gentle bloom of love in his touch, his words. Then as suddenly as their relationship had begun his polite indifference had replaced his wooing.

“Women do not know everything.” He stood and paced the length of the small room. He stood in front of the tiny window, but made no move to push aside the faded curtain. He simply stood there staring at nothing.

“What does a highwayman know of love?” she tossed out.

He chuckled, but it did not seem to be a particularly humour-filled laugh. “Perhaps I know nothing about love.” He turned and slowly lowered himself on to the sofa next to her. Far too close. She could feel warmth emanating off his legs.

She swallowed hard and fisted material from her skirt, twisting it. Trying her best to ignore her fear, she raised her chin up a notch. This close to him she could smell his scent, woody and musky, complete masculinity. There was something oddly familiar about it.

“You are quite lovely,” he murmured.

“There is no need to taunt me. That is cruel,” she said.

“Taunt you?” He leaned forwards, twirled one of her stray curls around his finger. “I thought I was paying you a compliment.”

“I am not a beauty, everyone knows that,” she said defiantly.

“That is a foolish thing to say.” He ran a hand down her cheek. His fingers were warm as they trailed down her face. “I might not know love,” he said, bitterness seeped into his tone. “But I do know beauty and you are beautiful.”

Again he touched her. Shivers scattered over her flesh, but nothing touched her the way his words did. As much as she didn’t want to, she believed him. He thought her beautiful. Perhaps that said more about her than it did him, that a thief would find her appealing. But she didn’t care. In this moment she felt beautiful. And it nearly erased all of her nerves about being trapped in this cottage with a potentially dangerous man.

“Your complexion is exquisite, your skin so soft. And your hair — I want to pull those pins from it and run my hands through your golden locks.”

In that moment she wanted him to. Not to simply threaten it, but to do it, to pull those pins out and pull her to him, kiss her senseless. It was wrong, she knew that, still there was something so compelling about this masked man.

“You have lovely brown eyes,” he continued. “But more than all of those, you have a luscious mouth, lips so full and tender, I want very much to kiss them.” He was so very close now, she could smell the faint hint of liquor on his breath as well as cold.

Without a thought to the consequences, Annalise closed her eyes and leaned forwards ever so slightly. He chuckled lightly, then his lips brushed against hers. The first touch of his mouth warmed her entire body. He settled closer to her, placed one hand on her back as he pulled her to him. His other hand cupped her cheek.

His lips moved against hers, softly, slowly, seductively. Annalise opened her mouth to him. He deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue across her teeth, then into her mouth. Desire pooled through her body, blood tingled through her veins.

Oh my.

His fingers kneaded her back. And she still sat, ankles crossed, hands fisting her skirts. She wanted to touch him too, but did not know where to put her hands. This entire situation was wrong, she knew that, but what did it matter now? She was a ruined woman. Fated to life as a single woman, much like her Aunt Triny. Should she not simply enjoy this moment of desire for what it was?

He kissed her for several moments and she enjoyed every brush of his lips, every sweep of his tongue. Good heavens, what was he doing to her?

With both hands he pulled her towards him so her torso lay partially across his body. His warm, firm chest pressed against her and still he kissed her. She had heard other girls mention such embraces, usually found in the arms of blackguards who preyed on the virtue of innocent females. But none of that mattered any longer. She felt a pang of regret as an image of Griffin’s face formed in her mind. She’d imagined kissing him in such a fashion, passion overcoming them both. But he did not want her, not truly, she reminded herself.

His hand came up and cupped her breast, the touch so intimate, so unfamiliar, yet so utterly devilish, that she made no move to stop him. He kneaded her sensitive flesh and deepened the kiss. Tentatively she kissed him back, running her tongue against his.

“Annalise,” he whispered.

Her eyes flew open, and she leaned back. “I never told you my name.”

Without another thought, Annalise reached over and tugged on the black mask. The black silk fabric tore away from his face. She came to her feet and her eyes widened in shock. “Griffin!” she exclaimed. He gave her a mocking bow. “Sorry to disappoint you.” Several conflicting emotions flitted across her face. She stood stock-still, her hands fisted at her sides, and continued to gape at him. “But how? Why?” Her brow creased in a heavy frown.

“How did I come to be a highwayman?” he asked. He walked away from her then, casually making his way to one of the tiny windows. He stared outside and said nothing for several moments, then he slowly turned to face her. “It was a wager. A foolish wager with an idiot friend.” He shook his head. “I was only meant to steal one piece of jewellery and then be on my way. Harmless enough.”

“Harmless,” she repeated.

He’d seen Annalise’s wrath and he fully expected to be on the receiving end any moment, but after several moments of silence he began to wonder. Still she stood, but she no longer faced him, instead she looked in the opposite direction.

“Annalise,” he said, gripping her elbow.

She turned to face him, her expression flamed with indignation. “You deceived me, played me for a fool.” She shook her head. “I said things I never would have—” She choked on the rest of the sentence.

Was she looking to him for an apology? Yes, he’d deceived her, but she’d walked out on him. Chosen a thief over a fiancé who … who what? Who was mad with lust for her? These were not the romantic words of love that a lady longed to hear. Still, she didn’t seem to be longing for such words from him so what did it matter if he had tender feelings for her or not?

“There is nothing harmless about this night,” she said quietly. She pulled away from him and faced the sofa.

So she regretted that too, his touch, his kisses. It was a kick in his gut because he knew that had she not ripped his mask off, she would have allowed him to continue, to push their passion further. But with Griffin, it was all regret.

He watched Annalise now as she lay on the sofa. Then he made his way to the front door. He wouldn’t leave, not now, but he needed some air. And the cold night breeze. Already his blood heated for her, desire surging through his body.

“I need some air,” he said as he headed out the front door.

He shouldn’t have touched her. He’d known that all along about Annalise, that once he started he wouldn’t be able to stop. Wouldn’t want to. Despite her good breeding, she was a fiery woman, one with passion and pluck. She would never be the perfect wife who sat in the corner and nodded and smiled. No, not his Annalise. She would argue and fuss.

He knew that for a lot of men that would bring nothing but aggravation. And he’d be a fool not to admit that her feisty behaviour would bring its share of frustration. But he wouldn’t want her any other way.

With other women he’d always been bored. They all looked the same and they sounded the same. But Annalise had her sumptuous curves, her wide, easy smile, and her eyes shone with intelligence. Her father had even warned Griffin that the girl was too well read for her own good. “Those books put too many opinions in her head,” he’d said. Her parents had even tried to convince Griffin that Annalise’s younger sister, Penny, was a better choice for him. But prim and proper Penny did nothing for him.

Hell, he’d known he had to be careful with her. It was why he’d kept his distance. They were explosive together. And he didn’t want to give his mother any reason for sabotaging this union so she could marry him off to a girl of her choosing. But he’d kept his distance so much so that he’d convinced his would-be bride that he was indifferent to her.

He had betrayed her, that he could not deny. But she had abandoned him. Begged a stranger to kidnap her so she could escape their marriage. He’d be a liar if he said that didn’t anger him. Other men might be perfectly satisfied with marrying a woman who did not want to become their wife. But Griffin was not that man. He wanted Annalise, but only if she wanted him too.

Oh, she’d desired him. In those heated moments when he’d still worn his mask. Did that mean the fire in her burned so hot merely because of the adventure? Was it the danger of the unknown and the idea that a common thief had his hands and mouth on her body? He wanted to believe that somehow she’d known it was him, and that was why she’d been so wanton. But he was no fool and he was not given to silly boyish fantasies.

He knew what he had to do. He’d give her the choice. If she chose to walk away perhaps her reputation would not be too damaged.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Annalise asked the following morning. Her voice was shrill, she knew that, but it panicked her to think he’d leave her, not simply alone here in this cottage, but that he would walk away completely. He’d lied to her and betrayed her, she reminded herself. But hadn’t she left him first? Begged a strange man — a man, to her mind, who was a common thief — to take her away from him?

“I have an appointment in Kent,” he said calmly.

She opened her mouth to speak, then said nothing. He still intended to marry her? Or was he planning to merely make an appearance to show good faith to her parents? Preserve his own name while he watched hers sullied? “Penny and Hildy will have told everyone what happened to me,” she said quietly. “No one will blame you for deserting me.”

“I’m not deserting you. I’ve called a carriage and it will take you wherever you choose to go,” he said.

“And what of the wedding?”

He inclined his head, then looked at her. “I’m planning on being in the church as we planned. If you so choose, you can meet me there and we will be married.”

“And if I do not?”

He shrugged. “Then I suppose I will be jilted and you will be free to do as you desire. Escape the propriety and boredom and chase that adventure you’re so desperate to find.”

She flinched, but took a step towards him regardless. “That’s it?” she asked, not knowing what she wanted him to say, but knowing she wanted more. Much more. Fight for me, her heart whispered. Want me, Griffin, love me.

“That’s it,” he said softly. He turned to go, then paused. “If you decide to go to London, you might want to leave fairly soon, the weather is getting colder and it might snow later. You wouldn’t want to get stuck on the road.” His eyes searched her face. He closed the door behind him, and he was gone.

She stood alone in the cottage. He’d never told her why he wanted to marry her, or if he even did. She knew he was honourable, despite his foolish wager that landed him the highwayman stunt. He would marry her because he said he would. Even though her reputation would now be in tatters. It would affect his name. He knew that. It mattered not that her virtue remained intact or that he was the only man who’d ever touched her. Society wouldn’t care about those details. All they would know was that she had been kidnapped by a highwayman two days before her wedding.

She realized now that what she’d wanted him to do was declare his love. Beg her to marry him because he couldn’t face another day without her. But men did not speak of such things, at least not to her. Why would she want to hear those things from him of all people? Certainly she did not love him. He was boring and inattentive … and passionate and utterly charming. She’d seen glimpses of those very characteristics that first night, then they’d all but disappeared.

The previous night though, as they’d played captor and captive, everything had been different. They’d talked, conversed, almost as friends would. They’d teased and flirted. He’d treated her as if he was courting her, wooing her. But that would mean he had tender feelings for her, which she knew could not be else he would have fought for her. But fought for what? A woman who’d declared she did not want him? Could not love him?

Annalise stared out into the woods surrounding the cottage. She strained her ears, trying desperately to hear the sound of hooves, willing him to return. But of course he would not. Which left the decision to her. What if she took that carriage and went to London? Showed up on the doorstep of her aunt and worked with her at her orphanage? She might have some satisfaction in her life from working with those who were less fortunate than her. She certainly adored her aunt and they always had a wonderful time together.

But what of love? What about being a wife and a mother? What of the passion she’d tasted for the very first time the night before? Perhaps Griffin did not love her now, but that did not mean he never would. Did it? He had asked her to be his wife and, even though she’d been horribly hurtful about his person, he had not walked away from her. He’d left for the church fully intending to marry her.

Or perhaps he intended to walk away from her once she met him at the altar? No, he could never be so cruel. Griffin, ah, handsome Griffin, who certainly had more adventure and passion in him than she’d ever realized.

Not to mention the way he’d touched her. The sensations he’d caused. She closed her eyes and, despite the chill from the morning air, warmth surged through her as she remembered his mouth on hers, his hand on her skin.

Her heart raced and thunder shook in her belly. Oh dear. Could it be? Did she love her very own husband-to-be?

Griffin ignored Annalise’s family who collectively had nearly paced a hole in the narthex floor. Every time her mother looked at him, she burst into tears. Her father had tried, on more than one occasion, to tell Griffin that no one expected Annalise to show her face at the wedding. Though her sister Penny looked appropriately worried, not one other member of her family was concerned about Annalise’s safety. To them, she was carelessly kidnapped by a villain. All they seemed to care about was Griffin’s feelings regarding her virtue.

They were mad, the lot of them.

He caught sight of Annalise’s sister again, standing quietly in the corner. Penny. What had Annalise said before he’d left? That Penny and Hildy would have told everyone what had happened to them. That meant Penny must have been in the carriage.

Griffin made his way over to the tall blonde. “Penny,” he said tersely.

She swallowed, but stepped over to him.

“Were you in that carriage?” he whispered.

She nodded. Her clear blue eyes welled with tears. “Yes, I was. Annalise covered me with her cloak and bid me stay inside, hidden.”

“To protect you,” he said.

“My reputation, My Lord, she was trying to protect my marriage prospects,” Penny said.

“So no one else knows you were in that carriage.”

“No, My Lord, my parents forbade it.”

He nodded and walked away from her. He’d thought Annalise had been so desperate to rid herself of him, she’d thrown herself at a common thief, but she’d merely been protecting her sister. Sacrificing her own reputation to salvage that of her beloved sibling. Perhaps that meant there was hope for them, for their future. If she decided to marry him. But damned if he wouldn’t have fought harder for her had he known the truth.

The wedding was a mere thirty minutes away and Griffin did his best to keep his own nerves from being rattled. Still he’d seen no sign of Annalise.

“Where is she?” his mother whispered from behind him.

“She’ll be here,” he said, willing it to be true. He would give her another hour and if she didn’t come, he’d go after her. Tell her how he felt, that he loved her and that he could wait until she learned to love him too. Though he tried not to be hurt and disappointed, he kept longing for the sound of a carriage rolling over the hillside.

And as if his heart had created that sound for him, he heard wheels crunching against rocks and hooves beating against the road. Annalise’s family continued to argue and speculate and do everything they could to be as insensitive and annoying as possible. Griffin stepped outside of the church, allowing the heavy door to slam behind him. He cared not if he was rude. All he cared about was whether or not she’d returned to him, and decided to marry him after all.

The carriage rounded the curve at the top of the hill and came in full view. It was definitely one of his, the Benning crest emblazoned on the door.

His heart thundered. He felt very much the eager schoolboy as he wiped his palms against his breeches.

Finally the carriage came to a rolling stop. He stepped forwards. The door opened. One delicate ankle stepped on to the step, then another as Annalise emerged from the carriage.

She’d come. Griffin fought the urge to run to her, to throw his arms around her and kiss her senseless.

“You came,” he said quietly as she walked towards him.

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that Penny was in the carriage with you?” he asked.

“It didn’t matter.”

“The hell it didn’t. It means everything. It means that you weren’t choosing a dangerous thief over a life with me. You were protecting your sister.” He paused. “Does this mean you’ll marry me?”

“I have a question first,” she said. She swallowed visibly and her lovely brown eyes looked up at his. “Why do you want to marry me, Griffin? I know my parents offered you Penny. Why would you choose me instead?”

He searched her face, looking for meaning behind her question.

She chewed at her lip. Her expression was so heartbreakingly vulnerable he fought the urge to pull her to him.

“I wanted to marry you because I love you,” he said.

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp. She gave him a shy smile. “You do?”

“Yes, Annalise, from the moment I first saw you in that dress shop on Bond Street. You so effectively put Lady Henwick in her place, I’d never seen anything like it. You intrigued me, amused me, your boldness, your fearlessness. I sought you out the following evening.”

“The Draper Ball,” she said.

“Yes. You looked perfect in your lavender gown.”

She frowned. “I didn’t know you remembered that.”

“I remember everything about you.”

“Then why? Why all that time during our engagement did you ignore me? Why did you spend so much time chatting up my parents while not so much as passing me a glance?” she asked.

He smiled. “Because I knew that if I spent too much time with you, I would not be able to keep my hands off you.”

“Truly?”

He pulled her to him, close to him, and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair. “Truly.”

“I love you, Griffin,” she said.

He squeezed her tighter. “Even though I’m boorish?”

She smacked his arm. “Yes, despite that, I still love you.”